


Tolnah kodaih kat delo anohrah'ak

by loosingletters



Series: a thousand possibilities [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Conlang, Dai Bendu, Family, Fix-It, Force-Sensitive Boba Fett, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi Culture, Mandalorian Anakin Skywalker, Mandalorian Culture, Non-Linear Narrative, Tatooine Slave Culture, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26000278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loosingletters/pseuds/loosingletters
Summary: “You’re Mandalorian,” Mace said and Obi-Wan was almost glad the Council member sounded as shocked as he felt.“Well, yeah,” Anakin replied. “What else am I supposed to be?”Shmi Skywalker’s mother was a free spirit, took her daughter with her on trips away from Concord Dawn. Years later Shmi attempted to raise her son the same way, Resol’nare and Tatooine’s wisdom alike. Or the one where Shmi is Jango’s older half-sister, Obi-Wan is raising a Mandalorian Padawan and Palpatine’s plans get ruined because four-year-old Boba Fett loves his cousin.
Relationships: Boba Fett & Anakin Skywalker, Jango Fett & Anakin Skywalker, Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Series: a thousand possibilities [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887079
Comments: 61
Kudos: 1112





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You ever decide to make a cultural melting pot AU?  
> To those who are new to the Mandalorian Skywalkers AU: Welcome! Enjoy this non-linear narrative of an AU also called "the most complicated custody arrangement in the galaxy". Have fun!
> 
> Edit 2021: Had to fix the title bc Dai Bendu Grammar changes whoops

> _“Tolnah kodaih kat delo anohrah'ak.”  
>  \- “We all come from the same temple.” Dai Bendu, Jedi proverb._
> 
> _“Aliit ori'shya tal'din.”  
>  \- “Family is more than blood.” Mando’a, Mandalorian saying._

The day history was changed, Obi-Wan was in deep conversation with Master Windu and desperately looking for a way to get out of the talk. The older Master had approached him about Anakin and the weekly reports Obi-Wan wrote on his Padawan’s development. The constant oversight was starting to annoy Obi-Wan. He needed help with Anakin, _yes_ , but the blond boy was still _his_ Padawan and Anakin was advancing at a frightening speed. Qui-Gin had been right, Anakin was meant to be a Jedi and Obi-Wan was sure he’d be guided towards Knighthood without everybody breathing down his neck.

“Master Windu, I understand-“

“Knight Kenobi!”

When Obi-Wan had hoped for a distraction, but not an obviously upset Crèchemaster dragging Anakin behind him. His Padawan was scowling and Obi-Wan already knew tonight’s meditation session would likely escalate into either another spar or holomovie night.

“Master Teres,” Obi-Wan greeted politely. “How can I help you?”

“You can help me by ensuring Padawan Skywalker gets a competent Master who is able to properly address is previous education.”

Obi-Wan froze. Master Teres hadn’t been supportive of him taking on Anakin from the very first day, but the other man had never been this hostile. Next to Obi-Wan, even Mace frowned.

“Those are heavy accusations, Master,” Mace said and glanced at Anakin still standing behind the Crèchemaster, his head held up high. “What incidents have led to this?”

“What incidents?” Teres echoed. “All of them. It is obvious that Knight Kenobi-“

“Stop talking badly about Obi-Wan!”

The three adults glanced at Anakin. The Padawan was standing up straight and determination burned like embers behind his eyes. Obi-Wan would appreciate his student standing up for him if he wasn’t so emotional about it right out here in the open.

“Anakin-“ he began to say, but the youngling just interrupted him.

“No! I did exactly as you said and tried to compare my new lessons to stuff I already know and Teres-“

“Master Teres, Anakin.”

“-said I was wrong! That it’s he-re-ti-cal!”

Obi-Wan had taught Anakin how to draw contrasts and comparisons between the Jedi believes and those Anakin had grown up with. The Council had even congratulated him on his clever approach. Anakin learned much better when he only had to put old lessons into the context of Jedi philosophies.

Obi-Wan crouched down to the level of his upset Padawan.

“I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding,” he told him.

“It is most certainly not-“

Obi-Wan shot the Crèchemaster a look and focused on Anakin again.

“Can you tell me what you talked about?”

“We were talking about what all Jedi believe in. Stuff like peace, helping each other and so on,” Anakin answered.

He started playing with the hems of his sleeves and waited for a moment for Obi-Wan to reassure him he was correct. Obi-Wan gave him a slight push over their bond and Anakin continued on.

“And I said that it kinda sounds like Resol’nare.”

“What?”

Master Teres looked smugly as Obi-Wan momentarily lost control of his expression.

“Where have you learned that word, Padawan Skywalker?” Mace asked.

Even though he had kept his expression neutral, there was certainly interest in his voice.

Obi-Wan had no idea either. Mandalore and its history weren’t discussed in class until the children were around thirteen from what he remembered.

“My Mother taught me,” Anakin answered easily. “ _Ba'jur bal beskar'gam, Ara'nov, aliit, Mando'a bal Mand'alor - An vencuyan mhi_. Education and armor, self-defense, our clan, our language and our leader - All help us survive.”

It occurred to Obi-Wan then that Anakin didn’t have even a hint of an accent. His Mando’a was flawless.

“Anakin, why do you know that?” Obi-Wan asked.

Now it was Anakin’s turn to confused. “Because it’s our creed? Mom doesn’t remember much about home, but she did try to teach me all she remembered. And we had C-3PO help a lot!”

“You’re Mandalorian,” Mace said and Obi-Wan was almost glad the Council member sounded as shocked as he felt.

“Well, yeah,” Anakin replied. “What else am I supposed to be?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dai Bendu is a conlang for the Jedi that a friend and I are developing. For more info, check [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885129)


	2. Chapter 2

Her name was Shmi Fett and she was the oldest daughter of her family. She had a younger sister, Arla, whose hair was blonde and eyes bright. They both took after their mothers, and didn’t look much like their father. Shmi’s new brother though, small and cute and helpless little Jango looked entirely like their father. He had the same dark hair and eyes and sometimes Shmi dreamed of a future where her brother’s face was that of thousands and thousands brave soldiers. She was sure he would be great someday, that the whole galaxy would know his name.

She just hoped the galaxy would know her name as well.

Shmi didn’t want to work for the government like her father or take care of the farm like her mother. Both of them did their jobs dutiful of course and they were important, but Shmi wanted to be just like her mom: a pilot, discovering new planets and suns and asteroids. She wanted to fight glorious battles and prove herself to be a brave warrior as well.

Her mother called Shmi’s vibrancy wanderlust, always with amusement coloring her voice. She said that it was the same feeling that pushed her mom away for weeks at a time, exploring space in her ship.

Shmi loved her mom’s ship. The _Skywalker_ was the fastest ship on all of Concord Dawn. It was silver and had many green and orange stripes. Her mom had told her once what all the colors of the galaxy meant, but Shmi hadn’t quite understood it. She was sure she’d learn it all someday, she’d have to teach her little siblings someday after all. Even if Arla was only a few months younger than her, she was still younger than Shmi. And Jango certainly would have to be taught about it and then at the latest Shmi had to have it all figured out.

For now, she was content to join her mom on a week-long trip. She had been excited about it for months. She had begged so very often and her parents had never allowed her to go with her mom. But now Shmi was already six and her mother was no longer pregnant with baby Jango, so her mom had caved in. She’d promised Shmi one short trip, just the two of them amongst the stars.

On her last day of Concord Dawn for what would be decades, Shmi Fett kissed her little brother goodbye. She hugged her little sister tightly and threw her arms around her mother and her father. When she was done, she took her mom’s hand and followed her onto the ship.

Her mom was a stunning figure, wearing her beskar’gam. The armor was painted in the same colors as her ship and Shmi was certain she’d never be able to forget it. She sat tightly in the copilot seat as her mom started the ship and then it was off the ground and soon after they had left the planet behind and Shmi was staring in the vast expanses of space.

This was where she belonged, she knew it.

She could feel the warmth of so many suns of her skin, hear planets breaking apart and see the stardust travel to so far unknown regions.

She never wanted to forget this sight and truthfully, she never would.

The memories would be tainted by pirates breaking into the ship, shooting their blasters at her mom. Shmi would be forced to watch as they searched the ship for anything valuable, took the beskar and joked about the price it would fetch them on the black market. When everything became too much and Shmi couldn’t even listen to the advice of the voice that whispered oh so sweetly to her so very often, she began to cry. The pirates of course heard her quiet sobbing and ripped open the cupboard she was hiding in. They pushed her past her mother’s dead body and shouted at her to cease her crying.

They would put an invisible collar around her throat, a tiny chip in her leg that would blow her up. And then they put her to work. They pushed Shmi through the vents of their ship until she was too big to fit through them, then they kept her only a little longer because she was good with droids and finally bought two new kids to replace her soon. They were wide-eyed and terrified as she had once been, so young too.

Shmi could still remember her childhood in frightening clarity, but she hadn’t known she’d ever been as small as the two of them.

She told them the same things her predecessor had told her _. Keep silent, take the beatings, eat the scraps, learn all you know, never give them your true name_. As long as they didn’t know your true name, they didn’t own all of you.

And if you didn’t have a second name, pick one thing you knew you adored so every time they called your name, you are reminded of your deepest wishes and freedom.

Shmi Fett had ceased to be out of necessity, in-between the boarding bridge of two ships.

Shmi Skywalker was born in space in a filthy pirate ship with anger in her bones.

Her son would be born in the very same way. All alone with her, stuck on a slave transport out of Republic Space. He’d come into the world crying and raging against the injustice done to him and Shmi would attempt to soothe him the best she could, humming songs and reciting old rhymes.

“Gar gai Anakin Fett,” Shmi’d tell her newborn in hushed whispers. “Aruetiise urmankalae gar Skywalker.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shmi's telling Anakin "Your name is Anakin Fett. Outsiders know you as Skywalker." Though, let it be known that Mando'a is not my strength beyond some curse words.


	3. Chapter 3

Anakin ducked beneath the blaster shot, slid across the floor, jumped up, side-stepped and aimed for his uncle’s head. Jango evaded him easily and hit the hollow of Anakin’s knee, forcing him to the ground. Anakin caught himself with one hand and lashed out with the other, a mad grin flashing over his face. He adored sparring with his uncle. Jango had pretty much taken over his entire hand-to-hand combat education, which meant that spars with Obi-Wan were much more ‘saber focused. Every once in a while, Anakin managed to surprise his Master by pulling a move out of Jango’s repertoire. He hadn’t yet managed to best his Master, but Anakin wasn’t even a senior Padawan yet. He still had a couple of years left until he had to give his Master serious troubles when fighting.

“Ke’sur’ar, Anakin!” Jango ordered.

“I am!” Anakin replied and got to his feet again.

Jango only raised his brow, clearly not impressed, but Anakin wasn’t fooled. In the Force, Jango was shining with undisguised pride and happiness. Anakin repeated the attack once more, this time evading Jango’s legs.

“Kandosii!” Jango praised. “You are improving quickly. Perhaps that jetii of yours does teach you well enough.”

“Obi-Wan is the best,” Anakin replied. “And it’s been three weeks, I should get back to the temple, I’ve got an exam coming up.”

Jango only shook his head with a sigh and grabbed one of the water bottles to toss it to Anakin. Eagerly, he opened it up and drunk from it before tossing the rest of the water over his red head. Fighting was exhausting.

“Then Kenobi should hurry up tracking you down, those are the rules,” Jango commented.

Anakin was fairly sure that seeing who could go the longest with Anakin by his side weren’t exactly rules but the world’s most complicated custody agreement, but he had given up on trying to mediate between Jango and Obi-Wan. They were both the same kind of stubborn. Next time Anakin saw his mother, he’d ask her to talk with them, she always got people to go along with her suggestions.

“He’s almost here,” Anakin spoke up again. “Two days away at best, I can sense him already. I could just go meet him halfway.”

“So quick to get rid of us, kid?”

“No!” Anakin protested. “I just- these exams are really important, I can’t flunk them and I haven't studied for them at all in the past weeks. T’Seely has been studying for months already.”

Jango quieted and studied Anakin attentively.

“I have a gift for you,” Jango said suddenly. “Boba, go get Anakin’s dinui.”

The five-year-old jumped up from his seat and rushed over to the shelf to pick out a package wrapped in brown flimsi. Anakin hadn’t even taken notice of it before, though he really should have. Jango kept the Slave I rather neat given Boba’s age, even if the child knew better than to get into his father’s weapon collection.

“For you!” Boba held out the package and Anakin accepted it. “Vor’e.”

It was rather heavy. Anakin shook it a couple times for good measure, then open it carefully. One layer of paper revealed the next one, until he spotted something silvery. Anakin looked up to Jango.

“This isn’t-“

“Open your present.”

Anakin tore off the remaining flimsi, revealing a shiny shoulder guard. “That’s real beskar, isn’t it?”

The question was unnecessary. Anakin had spent hours staring at Jango’s armor, he might be a little obsessed with it. Point was, he knew his metals and this was beskar, definitely. It just seemed too good to be true.

“It is,” Jango confirmed. “I believe it is time you start collecting your own ar-“

Anakin didn’t let his uncle finish his sentence, he rushed forward and pulled him into a hug. Finally, he was old enough for it, had proven himself worthy.

“Ori'vor'e, ba‘vodu,” Anakin muttered into Jango’s chest.

Jango put his arms around Anakin and Boba, obviously delighted by the show of affection, joined in with a squeal. Laughing, Jango pulled his son up so he was stuck right in-between the two.

“Ba'gedet'ye, An’ika.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a translations  
> Ke'sur'ar - (imperative) Focus!  
> Kandosii - Well done!  
> Dinui - gift  
> Vor'e - Thanks  
> Ori'vor'e, ba‘vodu - Thanks a lot, uncle  
> Ba'gedet'ye, An’ika - You're welcome, Anakin (lit. little Anakin, affectionate nickname)


	4. Chapter 4

Ahsoka’s arrival at Christophsis hadn’t been as smooth as she’d hoped it would be. Her new Master hadn’t even known she was going to be there. Ahsoka wasn’t the first Initiate that had been assigned to a Master instead of going through the traditional selection process, but she’d hoped Anakin would have had some influence in the decision-making process and hadn’t found out about her from herself. At least Ahsoka had made it to the battlefield, she hadn’t ever been so far from the peace and homey feeling of the Temple. Anakin wasn’t too keen on her, his thoughts obviously occupied with the battle in front of him, but she’d convince him, starting by taking out that shield generator.

“Okay, alright, fine,” Anakin muttered. “Where’s your armor?”

Ahsoka looked down at herself. She was wearing standard Jedi tunics. Okay, they’d been a little modified, but that was only because Ahsoka enjoyed the greater maneuverability and ran a couple degrees hotter than humans. She didn’t get cold as quickly.

“I’m fine as I am,” she replied.

Togruta skin was also a little thicker. She didn’t bruise as easily and it took a lot for her to get seriously injured. Her new Master, apparently, wasn’t too fond of her reply as he looked like he was about to have a stroke. Next to him, Obi-Wan was just smiling in glee.

“Fine as you-“ Anakin shook his head. “No, really, I mean it, youngling. Where is your armor?”

“I don’t have any.”

Ahsoka crossed her arms in front of her chest. Honestly, she didn’t get why it was such an issue. They had a shield generator to take care of!

“Don’t tell me Yoda-“

“Master Yoda, Anakin,” Obi-Wan threw in, but Anakin ignored it.

“-sent you here without any armor!? You’re not going into that fight looking like this.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Ahsoka huffed.

“Your stomach isn’t covered, neither is your chest, your shoulders, your neck and your arms. Do you have any idea how much damage even one blaster shot can do? You’re fresh out of the crèche, you haven’t experienced real battle, you can’t go out fighting like this.”

Ahsoka supposed that compared to Obi-Wan, Anakin or the clones, her apparel was more civilian like. The clones’ heavy armor was already the image of every war propaganda poster and most Jedi had opted for some sort of gear, even Master Kenobi. It wasn’t much, but Ahsoka hadn’t really thought about it before. Anakin was, of course, on a whole other level. His armor was famous even back at the temple. It wasn’t one of the many standard mass-produced ones, not bulky at all but rather smooth, made for speed she supposed. The metal was painted in black and red with the exception of the shoulder plates, on which one thick blue stripe had been painted. It made Anakin look dangerous.

“Not everyone is as concerned about armor as you are, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said on her behalf, or so Ahsoka hoped. She needed to be a part of this mission!

Anakin quickly turned to his Master, a finger pointed at him. “You! Don’t even get me started, you’re a walking danger hazard and one of these days you’ll get a blaster shot to the stomach and I won’t patch you up. But Ahsoka can’t go out fighting like that. Rex, do we have anything that could fit her?”

The Captain shook his head. “No, Sir.”

“Damn it.”

Anakin studied Ahsoka like he was trying to measure her. Then he muttered something she couldn’t understand but made Rex and Obi-Wan snort. He stripped out of his tabard, revealing the chest plate underneath.

“Arms up,” he ordered.

“What?” Ahsoka asked, but did as told.

Anakin draped his tabard over her head. It was heavier than expected, not just simple synthleather then. He made quick work of wrapping the tunic around her shoulders, cross her stomach and securing it around her back.

“There, best we can do right now,” he said when he was finished. “Baffleweave and chrosmasheath mix, reinforced with some synthleather. This is not an adequate replacement for proper armor, but it’ll have to do.”

It felt a little strange so Ahsoka did some experimental turns. It would work for now, especially if it meant that she was allowed to accompany Anakin.

“Thank you, Master. I’m ready.”

Anakin looked like he wanted to say something else, but then just motioned for her to come along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, Anakin is really, really, annoyed of how Obi-Wan's armor is more for decor than anything else. He nags a lot. As per Jango Fett's School For Battles And More _Do Not Go Out Fighting In A Bathrobe Or So Help Me Anakin_.  
> But at least Obi-Wan is somewhat protected. Ahsoka's Season 1 design gives me nightmares alright. Anakin's first stop after this battle is getting his new baby Padawan something to wear for combat.  
> And Anakin adds blue strips to his shoulders after becoming General of the 501st, he wants to match with his cousins!!!  
> Generally speaking, I suppose Anakin dresses somewhat like this [guy here](https://pin.it/5bzFWoy)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so! First "new" chapter!  
> The first part to Anakin & Jango meeting in which Jango doesn't even show up.

Anakin was pretty sure that this mission was the one that would finally lead to Obi-Wan snapping at the Council, taking Anakin and going on a very pleasant vacation on a nice planet like Naboo for an undecided duration.

The mission had been supposed to be peaceful. Not necessarily an easy negotiation between two rival parties, especially not now that Anakin had passed his Intro to Diplomacy II course, but peaceful still. There hadn’t been supposed to be any attacks. After their last quite disastrous mission, Obi-Wan had made it clear that he wanted their next to be better so Anakin wouldn’t end up thinking being a Jedi was nothing but combat or something, never mind that he was still too young for active combat mission actually.

He thought it was kind of weird Jedi didn’t purposefully send anyone under the age of fifteen into battle, but it made him feel loved to know that Obi-Wan didn’t want him to face even more pain.

So, once they’d be back home on Coruscant, Obi-Wan was bound to throw a hissy fit since an explosive charge had all but very nearly blown up Anakin’s face. His tunics were partly torched and he’d have to take a closer look at his lightsaber first before he dared to ignite it. There were no terrorists supposed to be opposing the negotiations, and yet Anakin had found himself right in the middle of such an attack. They had struck the center of a marketplace Obi-Wan and he had been strolling through, absolute hut’uune.

Swearing under his breath, Anakin attempted to get out of the mess. Retract from the chaos first, observe, then decide how to help, those were the rules.

Or guidelines.

Anakin really preferred to think of them as guidelines.

In the surrounding panic, Obi-Wan had gotten separated from Anakin. He was still here somewhere, Anakin could feel his presence, but he couldn’t see him.

“Fuck, fuck, osik,” he cursed, trailing from Basic to Mando’a as his worries grew. He tended to slip the less he focused. Obi-Wan still liked to hold the morning he was so tired from studying he had spoken his native language during breakfast over his head, all in good fun though. He was actually quite pleased Anakin was a polyglot.

Not that it mattered much when he was about to get blown to pieces.

Right, reorganize.

Anakin took off into the direction away from the smoke, hoping that it was the right decision, and began to look for people who needed his help escaping. There were blaster shots soaring through the air, driving Anakin’s senses nuts. What kind of arseholes targeted civilians?

He felt it before he saw it.

There was a kid in front of him, one moment standing there, the next they were on the ground, and yet they were standing still because the blaster shot hadn’t hit them yet-

Anakin pulled at the Force, at them, swiftly tearing the child away from its spot just a split second before the blaster now hit dusty ground. The kid crashed into his arms and immediately began to struggle.

“Woah, it’s fine,” Anakin said and ducked beneath another shot. “I’m a Jedi, I’m one of the good guys.”

The kid tensed and looked at Anakin with his big round eyes, awfully suspicious for a child of that age. But at least they had stopped struggling and were now only watching Anakin in curiosity. Okay, there was a kid without parents in Anakin’s arms. Obviously, he had found his new mission prerogative. He needed to get the child, honestly they couldn’t be older than four, somewhere safe.

“It’ll be alright,” Anakin said. “Let’s get you somewhere safe and find your parents, okay?”

In a better situation, he would have waited for the kid to nod and give his consent, but they were kind of busy in the middle of a war zone, so Anakin settled on just holding onto them and rushing off. Evens streets away from the chaos, people were still running, crying and screaming as law enforcement attempted to move in to diffuse the situation.

Anakin wished he could do more. He was supposed to be able to do more, he was a Jedi after all.

But every life saved, even if it was just one, was precious. So Anakin held onto the child and stormed away. After a couple minutes in a sprint, he fell back into a jog and stopped somewhere a little further away from all the chaos. He stepped into a side-alley where hopefully it would all be okay to take a breath.

“I’ll let you down now, alright?” Anakin told the child. He didn’t even know if they spoke Basic but he could the feeling they at least understood what he meant. “Don’t run off. It’s dangerous.”

He set the child to the ground again and, when he saw that they didn’t run off, Anakin leaned out of the alley to catch a look at his surroundings. It was better than on the market place, but not pretty. And in some distance to the direction he had come from, he could see even more smoke rising.

“Bastards targeted more than one place,” Anakin muttered, fiddling with the hems of his robes. “Ge’hutuun-“

“You speak Mando’a?” The kid fired off so quickly, if Anakin hadn’t been paying attention to them, he would have missed it.

Anakin looked down at the child. They were still looking at him with their wide brown eyes, but there was no distrust to see. If anything, they seemed almost hopeful.

“Uh, yeah, I’m Mandalorian,” Anakin answered in kind. He hadn’t spoken Mando’a with a lot of people in recent years. The whole situation was bizarre. “Name’s Anakin Skywalker.”

“But you’re a Jedi!”

“I’m both,” Anakin said with a shrug. He understood that the history between both groups wasn’t exactly great, but that wasn’t going to stop him from being who he was. “And who are you?”

“Father said not to tell anybody my name,” the kid replied and then immediately began to tremble.

Anakin had spent enough time in the creche to know how a child about to start crying looked like. He crouched down next to the kid and reassuringly put a hand on their shoulder.

“We’ll find your parent, I promise. Hey, how about I tell you some stories about my adventures with my Master until everything has calmed down? They’re pretty awesome, I promise.”

The child hesitated, then they finally nodded.

“Okay, good,” Anakin said. “Then, how about I tell you the story of how the great Obi-Wan Kenobi singlehandedly saved an entire village from a terrible fate? Would you like that…?” Anakin trailed off, hoping the kid was already to enamored to be stressed.

“Boba,” the child finally replied. “I’m Boba.”

“Cool! Well then, Boba, it all started two years ago after my first mission…”

And all around them the world became smaller.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to HC that Jedi dont get sent on active combat missions until they are 15 to fit with TCW movie canon.  
> So, we have Anakin who is stressed and Boba who is scared and smol but very happy he got to meet somebody he can trust.  
> Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear what you think!
> 
> Mando'a:  
> hut’uune - coward  
> Ge’hutuun - coward but even worse

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Come find me on [Tumblr](https://jasontoddiefor.tumblr.com/)!


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